


Fairy Tales 101: Real or Not? An In-Depth Study

by kanoitrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (mentioned) Balthazar/Castiel, (mentioned) Cassie Robinson/Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Crowley/Castiel, (mentioned) Zachariah/Castiel, Alternate Universe - Human, Always Female Castiel, Always Female Dean, F/F, Fairy Tales, Female Castiel/Female Dean Winchester, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, Minor Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Minor Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Sex swap, Slow Burn, Through the Years, cis swap, minor Chuck Shurley/Castiel, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanoitrace/pseuds/kanoitrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time Deanna reached kindergarten, the Winchesters had themselves a certifiable tomboy, complete with braided pigtails and grass-stained overalls, and they couldn't have been prouder.</p><p>Once she learned to read on her own, Castielle took a liking to fairy tales, absorbing the stories like a sponge. It wasn't just the Disney versions of them either, but every iteration, up to and including the original Brothers Grimm. She was the Novaks' beautiful princess, and they doted on her as was fitting.<br/>**<br/>The story of the girl who never stopped believing in fairy tales, the girl who learned to believe in them, and how they fell in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon a Time...

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my beta! Without her continued support, this may not have come about so quickly.

Deanna Henrietta Winchester was born one blustery, January night to John and Mary Winchester, almost a full three months before she was supposed to be. John had been boisterous about wanting a boy throughout the pregnancy, a son whom he could teach to work on cars and play baseball. Mary had simply wanted a healthy child. Seeing as Deanna spent the entire first month of life in the NICU, neither parent had gotten what they wanted. Turns out it didn't much matter. Deanna was a fighter from the start, too stubborn and impatient to be home with her parents to put up with all the shenanigans of the hospital staff. The way she filled her tiny, under-developed lungs to shriek at them in annoyance every time they poked and prodded was enough evidence of it.

Despite her rocky start, Deanna was a lively child, brilliant and bright and reaching her milestones far before most other children of her age. Mary took to saying that it wasn't that Deanna was premature; she simply was ready to get going. Deanna lived up to it, always on the move, always into something.

John never much noticed he didn't have a son, as his daughter regularly crawled up into his lap, watching with wide eyes as he worked on one thing or another. She would stare in fascination at the old cars her daddy would fix up at his shop, memorizing makes and models like most children did cartoon characters and candies. Dolls fell on flat ears, Deanna far more interested in toy cars and things that required building. As soon as her tiny hands could hold a wrench, John started teaching her all about engines and how to do more than just fix them up.

And when she was four and Samuel Johnathan Winchester was born? Well, she took to him like a fish to water, ready to instill in him all the things their daddy had taught her first.

By the time she reached kindergarten, the Winchesters had themselves a certifiable tomboy, complete with braided pigtails and grass-stained overalls, and they couldn't have been prouder.

Castielle Jenny Novak was born in early September to Jimmy and Amelia Novak. She was a late in life baby, likely to be the only one they would ever have, the pregnancy putting a strain on Amelia that almost proved too much. Amelia had had to be induced after months on bed rest, and after, both mother and daughter had had to remain at the hospital under supervision. The Novaks had no qualms with the doctor's advisements that they should have no more children, perfectly ecstatic with their beautiful baby girl whose wide, overly blue eyes stared up at them with wisdom far beyond that other babies. A nurse had told them Castielle's eyes probably wouldn't stay so vividly blue, most babies being known to have blue eyes, but the Novaks knew better.

Castielle was never a very healthy child, plagued with a constant stream of mild illnesses her whole childhood, never the kind to cause lasting harm, but enough to warn against outside play and exertion. Not once did she complain, forever content to sit quietly in her momma's lap with a book before the two of them or playing at tea parties with her vast collection of stuffed bears.

Once she learned to read on her own, Castielle took a liking to fairy tales, absorbing the stories like a sponge. It wasn't just the Disney versions of them either, but every iteration, up to and including the original Brothers Grimm. Amelia and Jimmy had been reticent at first, concerned over just what the more horror-esque versions may do to their daughter's young psyche, but Castielle gleaned such great joy from them all that they couldn't bear to take them away when the young girl had so few other joys afforded her.

It fit rather appropriately with her love of fairy tales that Castielle was a perfect, little lady, quiet and demur, always in girlish dresses with her long, dark hair falling in beautiful curls. _A china doll_ the church ladies had called her on many occasions. She was the Novaks' beautiful princess, and they doted on her as was fitting.

It was a rather odd thing, a shock to most who knew the girls (and who in town did not know John Winchester's little girl, always down at the auto shop, helping her daddy and Uncle Bobby fix up cars on the slow days, or Amelia and Jimmy Novak's daughter, always hiding behind the pleats of her mother's skirts, offering small, shy smiles and handmade flower crowns to anyone and everyone she saw) when they became fast friends in Miss Hannah's kindergarten class.

Despite the whole town knowing them, neither girl found making friends easy. Deanna was strange to the little girls, finding the world of dolls and tea parties foreign and horrendously dull; likewise, the boys found Deanna just as strange, an oddity in the natural order, and maybe, just a little, she intimidated them, knowing far more about the real cars that their toy ones were based off of than they knew of t-ball.

Meanwhile, Castielle was branded different, herself. She was too soft to play with, too quiet and perfect in her alabaster skin and soft blue dresses and ribbons in her hair. Boys mostly ignored her, while girls envied her, always watching from afar, whispering amongst themselves about the princess in their school yard with flowers weaved between her fingers and through her hair. And Castielle found it just fine this way. She didn't know it should be odd to be alone as she'd never before known to be lonely. She passed her recesses happily reading her fairy tales or crafting flower crowns, which she would later give to Miss Hannah so that they both might wear them as Castielle helped her teacher clean.

In hindsight, many would realize that they should have never found the friendship so unlikely, as it seemed both girls were just different enough from everyone else to find common ground with each other.

* * *

Deanna had of course seen Castielle. Who in Miss Hannah's class didn't know the prim little girl who sat amongst flowers like some Snow White come to life? Really, all that was missing was a smattering of wild, forest critters at her feet. And not cool forest critters like mountain lions and bears. No, baby deer and birds and bunnies were more befitting of Castielle Novak. Though as Deanna had one day confided in her mother, she wouldn't surprised if Castielle could tame even mountain lions and bears. Mary had found herself laughing at the wide-eyed, convicted way her daughter said the words, as though it were the coolest thing little Deanna could conceive of. Granted, Mary had seen the little girl in question before, been witness to the young girl's aura of absolute serenity, and she found she couldn't help finding herself in complete agreement with Deanna; she wouldn't be surprised, either.

It was often that Deanna came home from school talking excitedly of the " _princess girl_." She only ever spoke to Mary about it, never John, and though Mary delighted in having something between just her and her daughter, she felt it her parental duty to ask why. After all, Deanna had been glued to her father's side from day one. When asked, Deanna pulled the ugliest face Mary had ever seen, a true feat, considering that Deanna was known to make some truly awful faces. Deanna sat down and explained to Mary, as though she were speaking to the chronically stupid, that _"Daddy is too harsh, he won't get it. Only soft people can listen about her."_

It eventually came that Mary felt she had to ask why it was Deanna never talked to the girl herself, despite always talking about her and even taking to calling her " _Cas_ ." She'd been afraid that maybe her tomboy of a daughter felt she was too harsh to talk to Castielle, much as she felt her father was too harsh to be spoken to about her. Much to Mary's relief, when questioned, Deanna simply said, " _She always looks so far away, like she's in another world._ " There'd been an uncertainty in Deanna's eyes as she said it, a certain understanding in her five-year-old brain that led her to believing she was not privy to this other world to which Castielle belonged. When Mary suggested that perhaps Castielle might like some company in this other world of hers, Deanna had immediately perked up at the idea, confidently claiming she had just been thinking that herself. Mary simply smiled and let her have that one, knowing Deanna would forever be John's daughter, bluster and all.

Castielle had of course noticed Deanna. Castielle noticed many things, after all, a side effect of often being alone and watching the world. However, Deanna Winchester should have been impossible for anyone to miss. She was loud and wild, tumbling around the playground with a fierce-eyed determination that Castielle had never seen before in real life, only in the pictures of her fairy tale heroes and heroines.

Deanna was enthralling, never paying mind to the other children, as though they did not fall on her register. And though Deanna approached all things, it seemed, in a wholly haphazard, reckless way, never once did she seem to get anything wrong. 

It was without noticing that it had happened that Castielle began spending her recesses watching Deanna and reciting her own stories in her head, ones in which Deanna was the hero who saved the day (though she never slayed any dragons, for Castielle could never make peace with the seemingly constant obsession princes and knights had with killing such wonderful creatures; she knew Deanna was far too admirable to ever harm an innocent living creature simply for following its nature).

She was content in watching Deanna from a distance, always averting her eyes whenever she might be caught, which is why it came as such a surprise when one day Deanna's sneaker-clad feet came into view on the ground in front of her. When Castielle looked up to find Deanna holding the class pet, a large, gray, forever cranky-looking rabbit named Marv, it was the first time she ever noticed the smattering of freckles all across Deanna's face. Castielle found that the blemishes reminded her of constellations in their seemingly mindless patterns, and her mind flitted away to stories of mythology and the various tales of heroes and princesses trapped in the stars.

Deanna plopped the rabbit down in front of Castielle, whose hands instinctually went to the animal to ensure he didn't hop away. Sheepishly, wringing her hands in front of her, Deanna explained, "You never looked quite right without a forest critter."

Castielle blinked her wide, blue eyes up at Deanna, unsure how to take such a comment.

At the continued silence, Deanna scuffed her toes in the grass. "Momma said you might like company, and Marv... Well, he's cranky lookin', but 'least he don't talk."

Castielle took in the blush staining the stars on Deanna's face like the sun does the stars at sunset. She glanced down at the rabbit in her hands, its nose angrily twitching away, and she looked back up Deanna, smiling beautifully. "Would you like to join me?" she asked.

The breath was knocked out of Deanna's tiny lungs at the look. She'd seen the soft smiles Castielle reserved for flowers, the polite ones she gave Miss Hannah, but she'd never seen one like this. She swelled with pride that she was the one who caused it. "Sure!" Deanna exclaimed, uninhibited in her excitement as she had always been in everything else. "What're you doin'?"

"Nothing very exciting," Castielle said softly, staring down at the rabbit, idly petting his fur, as a blush stained her cheeks a pretty pink to match her dress (but never her ribbons, no, her ribbons were always, without fail, blue; it was, as Deanna's daddy would say, something you could set your watch to). "I'm just making flower crowns for the ladies at church."

Deanna wrinkled her nose. "Flower crowns?"

Castielle glanced at Deanna and away again, cheeks darkening even further. "Yes, but... We don't have to."

Deanna looked shamefully down into her own lap. "It's just... I don't know how." She seemed so wholly upset by the idea, that Castille quickly lept to rectify it.

"I can teach you?" she offered demurely, the words coming out as more of a question than anything else.

Deanna grinned up at her, all utter delight and excitement. "Could you!?"

Castielle smiled brightly back at her, nodding so readily that her black curls bounced off her shoulders and around her face.

Deanna threw herself into learning to make flower crowns the same way she threw herself into learning about cars, wholeheartedly and with unmatched determination, mastering the skill before the end of recess. When she brought her creation home to Mary, her father about had a heart attack while her mother fondly stroked her hair.

* * *

Friendship between Deanna and Castielle came easy to them both, and they spent many afternoons basking in each other's company. Not all though; both girls understanding implicitly that occasionally Deanna needed to run and romp around as Castielle could never do, just as Castielle needed the occasional afternoon to spend alone with the latest book her daddy had bought her from a thrift store (" _Books with history are much better than ones that are new_ " she had once explained to Deanna).

And it was entirely possible that Deanna's favorite afternoons were the ones spent with her head pillowed in little Castielle's lap as Castielle braided flowers into Deanna's hair and recited  _Once upon a time_ 's from memory. And though Deanna may have always wrinkled her nose in distaste at the way the princes always rushed in to save the day while the princesses laid in wait to be rescued, Castielle would simply giggle, promising that she knew Deanna needed no prince, that she could save the day all her own. If Deanna occasionally had thoughts such as she wanted to be the prince that rescued Castielle, she never gave them voice

 


	2. There Were Two Princesses...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, Cas?" she breathed out, barely loud enough to a whisper.  
> Their fingers twisted together, skin rubbing against skin. "Yes?"  
> "Your fairy tales..."  
> A quiet, amused smile. "They aren't my stories, Deanna."  
> "But they... There's a kiss, right? Always seems to end the bad stuff?"  
> A tilt of the head, considering. "It's not always a kiss, though some of the stories do have a more overtly sexual tone."  
> Dubiously, "Are you seriously giving me a literature lesson here?"  
> A soft laugh. "Are you asking to kiss me?"

As people grow, they change. The people who may be important in their lives one day may melt away into a distant memory the next. By high school, Deanna and Castielle were little more than casual acquaintances. Nothing had happened between them to cause any sort of discord; they had simply grown apart as childhood friends are like to do. A lot of it had to do with them never being in the same class after kindergarten with Miss Hannah. Even more of it had to do with the fact that in the third grade Castielle had gotten very terribly sick with pneumonia and missed a lot of class. To make sure she didn't fall behind just due to missed glasses, her parents pulled her out and home-schooled her until sixth grade, wanting to make sure her ever tenuous health was in a good place before returning her to the public education system. It made maintaining friendships hard, especially when most of the days early on Castielle was too sick to receive visitors. While both girls initially felt saddened, they eventually fell easily back into the idea of being alone. It had never much bothered either of them, anyway. And so it was that they left warm memories of childhood friendships behind them alongside play tea sets and toy cars.

Adolescence saw Deanna joining sports teams (soccer, softball, volleyball -- she excelled at them all) and officially working part-time at her Uncle Bobby's shop. She was her brother's hero, a trait in Sam which everyone found adorable. Even as he began to shoot up taller than her when he reached seventh grade, he still idolized his big sister.

With hormones and growth also came Deanna noticing attraction to others. However, while most girls in her class were crushing on Aaron Bass, Deanna found herself admiring Cassie Robinson. As it turned out, Cassie admired Deanna just as much, and when Deanna came home telling her parents that she'd kissed a girl and maybe, possibly had a girlfriend, no one was honestly the least bit surprised. It didn't make a whole mess of difference as far as her family was concerned; she was still their Deanna.

By junior year, Deanna was out and proud and popular for her accomplishments on several of the school's sports teams. She wore plaid and punched boys who who mistreated girls or picked on other boys, and she sat with the nerds. There wasn't a soul that didn't know who Deanna Winchester was and to treat her with respect.

When Castielle returned to school in the sixth grade, very few people remembered the reverence in which they had once held her, which suited Castielle fine. She had no need nor want for reverence. As always, making friends did not come easy to her, but, as always, she much preferred her books and her solitude. No one gave much thought to the bookworm girl who always sat at the back of the bleachers or the class, nose buried in some story or another.

Then puberty hit, and Castielle grew out of the awkward, gangly body that plagues all per-pubescent children. Boys fell in love with her long, soft curls and her curved, slender frame, while girls wanted to be just like her, or in absence of that, at least be her friend.

Castielle became the type of girl who floated ethereally through high school, always kind to everyone and disliked by no one. She was voted into the homecoming court every year, and every year she came in second but was never anything but gracious and thankful and kind to the girl that won. She never seemed to have any close friends or fit into any group, but as opposed to making her a social pariah, it seemed only to make her that much more popular, everyone feeling as though they could be her friend.

Castielle dated, always boys who anyone would be proud to bring home to their beaming parents, but Deanna always managed to see enough to know better. There had been the time freshman year where she'd caught a glimpse of bruising around Castielle's wrists under the sleeves of her sweater not days after she and Zachariah Adler had split. Then there was the scandal of Sebastian Balthazar getting caught making out with Bela Talbot behind the bleachers while he was supposed to have been dating Castielle. No one could prove it, but he and Castielle had broken up not long after. At junior prom, Deanna had wandered outside only to find Castielle being accosted in the parking lot by her date Fergus Crowley. That time Deanna intervened, pulling the creep off Castielle and punching him square in the nose. He'd left in a blur of red and black, cussing the whole way as he got into his car and sped off, leaving both the girls behind.

Castielle had thanked her, never once meeting Deanna's eyes, and then she'd disappeared back inside, leaving Deanna blinking like a guppy in her wake. That had been the last time they spoke until December of senior year.

News about the Winchesters' impending divorce had spread quickly once everyone had gotten back from Thanksgiving break. Deanna figured it would still have been a secret, even from her and Sammy, if that nurse hadn't shown up at Bobby's shop, going on and on about how he'd knocked her up. Deanna didn't understand why it couldn't have been handled quietly and behind closed doors instead of like a circus for all to see. Everyone needed a holiday scandal, she guessed.

Somehow, miraculously, she'd made it through her finals, probably in large part because studying was the only means of distraction she had left to her, what with her sports' seasons either being over or having not yet started and her boycotting working whenever her dad did (which was most every day). Thankfully, Uncle Bobby had been understanding of that one.

It was the last day of school before break, classes having already ended, and Deanna couldn't stand the though of going home. Thanksgiving had been bad enough; she didn't want to even think about Christmas. They didn't even have a tree yet, she realized with the sort of detachment one might find in the mentally unsound. Somehow, freezing her ass off on the bleachers next to the soccer field seemed much more preferable than going home.

The sun was sinking low, painting the sky a ruddy pink color behind ominous clouds that threatened freezing rain, and Deanna had her hands shoved between her thighs, trying to keep them warm, just trying to afford herself a little more time before she had to suck it up and head to her house and warmth it offered. It was with surprise that she noticed someone else walking across the field. She'd kind of figured everyone had left the campus by now.

Upon closer inspection, she realized that it was Castielle Novak. Castielle stopped at the bottom of the bleachers, considering her for a moment, before slowly and deliberately climbing them, finally sitting down next to Deanna without a word uttered between them.

Deanna watched her through the corner of her eyes, taking in the way Castielle's cheeks were flushed and her lips were chapped from the cold. She took in the way dark brown curls, not black like they'd been in her childhood, framed Castielle's face as her brilliant blue eyes stared ahead. She found herself wondering how anyone could want to hurt the girl beside her, how Balthazar could have cheated on her with that tart, Bela Talbot.

The last part she must have said aloud because Castielle quirked a smile, wisely saying, "I should think you'd understand the appeal of Bela more than most."

Deanna's blush immediately warned off the cold. Petulantly, she murmured, "That was one time, and we only made out."

Castielle giggled softly beside her.

Deanna turned to face Castielle, curling one leg underneath her, holding onto it at the ankle, and she asked, "How do you even know about that anyway?"

Castielle stared off into the distance, a far off look in her eyes. "You'd be amazed what people will say around you when you blend into the background."

Deanna snorted. "You? Blend into the background? Probably more cuz everyone thinks you're their friend."

Castielle turned to look at her, brow cinched together and bottom lip poked out in a lack of understanding.

Deanna's eyebrows shot up her forehead. "Wait, seriously? You seriously think you blend in?" She barked out a laugh. "Man, you really do live in another world!"

Castielle's frown deepened. "I don't understand what's so funny."

"Cas," the old nickname rolled off Deanna's tongue naturally, "you're the prettiest girl in school. Everyone either wants to be you or date you. Can't believe you don't know that."

Castielle studied her a moment longer, calculating, before asking, "So which are you?”

The question gave Deanna pause. "What?"

Quite reasonably, Castielle explained, "You said everyone either wants to be me or date me, so which are you?"

Deanna stared at her, wide-eyed and fumbling, words tripping over her tongue in incomplete syllables. Castielle watched her with a tilt of her head, a puppy groomed into a show dog, one that obviously thought she was just a common household pet.

Another smile spread across Castielle's face. "You never were like anyone else," she said, mystified. She turned back to look out at the sky quickly turning an inky black. "It's what I found so amazing about you."

This blush felt comfortable, seeping down into Deanna's bones to lovingly melt away the cold, and she found herself relaxing. The words came unbidden when she said, "I think I'd rather protect you."

Castielle side-eyed her, mildly asking, "Oh?"

Deanne softly responded, "You date a lot of scumbags, Cas. I don't get it."

Castielle's eyes flickered down, lashes kissing the tops of her cheeks for the scantest of seconds. Softly, voice drifting off on the wind, she replied, "Sometimes you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince."

Something ugly twisted inside of Deanna at the words, something angry and hurt and jealous. It confused her, and she found herself snapping, "Seriously? Life isn't a fairy tale, Cas! You don't just find prince charming and ride happily off into the sunset!"

"Just because it doesn't happen for most, doesn't mean it isn't right to try," Castielle replied, her face set stubbornly.

Heavy silence fell between them as thunder rumbled in the distance.

Sighing, Deanna said, "You should go home. You're going to get sick."

Castielle either didn't heard the comment or she chose to ignore it because the next words out of her mouth were, "I'm sorry about your parents."

Normally, the sentiment would just further set Deanna off, make her want to kick, scream, punch, wail, anything but weather the pitying looks. This time was somehow different. Whether it was the sincerity or the fact that it was Cas, or maybe the cold just drained out all of the fight in her, but, somehow, this time her only response was, "Thanks."

They sat in silence again, and after a moment, Castielle slid her mitten-clad hand over to grasp Deanna's own gloved one.

Deanna smiled and teased, "Can't believe you wear mittens."

Castielle sniffed primly. "Mittens are a perfectly acceptable choice for winter apparel."

Deanna just chuckled, leaning into the girl beside her.

They sat together, holding hands, until thunder cracked loudly overhead, signaling the opening of the skies and a torrential downpour of freezing cold rain let loose upon the girls. With surprised screams, they jumped up and gathered their things, Deanna grabbing Castielle's hand once more as she led them in a swift bolt to cover. They ran all the way to Deanna's house, slamming the door behind them.

Once inside, Deanna realized that Castielle's breath was coming in wheezing gasps as she leaned against the wall, and guilt gripped tightly against her heart. "Are you okay?" she asked, panicked. "I forgot -- I wasn't thinking, I'm so sorry."

Castille smiled weakly at her. "S'ok." _Gasp_. "I'm okay." _Gasp._ "Just not used -- " _Gasp._ "To running."

"We need to get you out of those wet clothes," Deanna said, taking Castielle's arm to lead her up the stairs and trying not to wince too much at how it sounded like a line from a cheesy porno.

"Guess the answer is date me," Castielle mused, and when Deanna looked at her, the girl was wearing a tired but no less teasing smile.

Deanna rolled her eyes. "Oh, ha ha. Aren't you supposed to be gasping for breath or something?"

"Only if you give me a reason to," Castielle shot back, expression smug.

Deanna maybe tripped over her feet a little at that one.

They dried off with warm towels fresh from the dryer, and Deanna lent Castielle some dry sweats and a tee shirt. Try as she might not to, her traitorous eyes kept finding their way back to the smooth, unblemished skin revealed as Castielle changed. Deanna could only see her back, but marveled even at that, at how smooth and perfect the skin was, slightly tanner than when they'd been children, healthier looking, but no less like porcelain.

Seeing Castielle in Deanna's clothes was odd, so used to seeing her in dresses or skirts with feminine tops, but there was a certain appeal to it. The clothes hung different on her than they did on Deanna, falling softly against Castielle's curves. Something about the picture of Castielle standing in her room, in her clothes, hair wet and matted down her back, made Deanna's fingers twitch.

Catching the motion, Castielle twined their fingers together in a complex pattern of skin and bone, holding hands, but only just. Something thick lodged in Deanna's throat as she looked up from where their fingers were knotted together and into Castielle's eyes. Her heart skipped a rapid, fluttering beat against her ribs as Castielle crowded into her space until their knees were knocking together and they shared the same air.

"Hey, Cas?" she breathed out, barely loud enough to a whisper.

Their fingers twisted together, skin rubbing against skin. "Yes?"

"Your fairy tales..."

A quiet, amused smile. "They aren't my stories, Deanna."

"But they... There's a kiss, right? Always seems to end the bad stuff?"

A tilt of the head, considering. "It's not always a kiss, though some of the stories do have a more overtly sexual tone."

Dubiously, "Are you seriously giving me a literature lesson here?"

A soft laugh. "Are you asking to kiss me?"

"And if I was?"

A solemn consideration. "I can't promise it will do what you want, but I wouldn't mind it."

"Good enough for me."

It was a soft touch, a barely there brush of their lips together as their eyes slid shut and arms twined around each other. Castielle felt soft in her arms, light and pliant, fingers tickling softly at the small of Deanna's back. She could feel Castielle's long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. They stopped kissing for only a moment before Deanna dove in for another, angling her head to deepen it.

They spent the night never doing more than kissing, legs tangled together under the sheets of Deanna's bed as they fell asleep. Come morning, they ambled downstairs for breakfast, Mary delighted at the company and Sam staring at Castielle, muttering under his breath, " _Why does Deanna always get all the pretty girls?_ "

They spent the entire break together, and though Deanna would briefly wonder between stolen kisses how it was that Castielle didn't need to go home and spend the holidays with her own family, she was never sorry for it. She memorized everything about Castielle in those few weeks, from the way her nose twitched in her sleep to the flush that would spread up her chest in the throes of pleasure. It was the best three weeks of Deanna's life, and when Christmas break ended, as all good things must, they both inexplicably went back to the way things had been before, as though Christmas break had been just a fever dream.

In the first week back, Deanna learned how it was that Castielle had been able to spend the whole of the break with her. Jimmy Novak had been admitted to a mental hospital just days before the break. Amelia had apparently stayed in a nearby hotel over the holidays, afraid to leave her distressed husband alone.

It was with a bitterness churning in her gut that Deanna had to remind herself that Castielle's fairy tales weren't real. They'd simply both been looking for an escape.

 


	3. They Lived In Different Worlds...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March came in with a smattering of rainstorms that seemed fit to drown the world, and Deanna found herself wishing it would.

March came in with a smattering of rainstorms that seemed fit to drown the world, and Deanna found herself wishing it would. Her father's funeral left her feeling hollow, a Matryoshka doll missing all its insides. It was perhaps the only thing that kept her going when she returned home afterward to find Lisa sitting grim-faced on their sofa, crying through confessions of how “ _it was just one time_ ,” “ _I don't even know his name_ ,” and “ _Deanna, I'm so sorry_.” Deanna didn't have to ask why Lisa had fessed up, the pregnancy test she'd found in the trash three days ago had spoken loudly enough.

Deanna did the only reasonable thing and moved into her car. No matter the circumstances, she couldn't make a pregnant woman homeless; her momma'd taught her better than that. It was in that moment, sprawled across the backseat of her Impala, feeling the not unpleasant buzz of complete and total numb radiating through her body, that she had the passing thought “ _Pregnant women really need to stop showing up in the lives of Winchester women_ .”

It seemed, somehow, that overnight the angry March storms broke, giving way to mild, sunny April, and along with it the terrible ability for Deanna to feel again. It was with this over-awareness of the broken pieces of her heart clattering about in her chest that she threw herself back into her studies once spring break ended, spending long hours in the library or other campus buildings. It was simply fortuitous that her longing not to return to the lonely backseat of her car aided her in preparing for the last finals she would ever take before obtaining her engineering degree.

It was two weeks after she'd moved into her car that she saw  _her_ . Castielle Novak was sitting outside the Starbucks on Deanna's campus, wearing a gorgeous blue top that even from a distance Deanna knew would bring out her eyes and a pair of the tiniest, white shorts she ever could have imagined, long legs on full display, stretched out under the table and crossed at the ankle. Deanna oscillated between running away and just walking inside like she'd never noticed. In the end, she could do neither, her indecision resulting in standing still just long enough for Castielle to glance up through long, dark lashes from her book and spot Deanna. The smile that spread across her face was breath-taking, and suddenly, Deanna forgot she'd ever been hurting before.

“Deanna?” Castielle's voice was all excitement and pleasure, birds singing on tree limbs and soaring through the skies.

Deanna offered an uncertain smile. “Hey, Cas.”

Castielle quickly straightened her posture, pulling her legs so they bent at the knee and slanted under her seat. “Please, won't you sit with me?”

Deanna's eyes darted around, looking for what she knew not. It only took one more glance at those wide, blue eyes before she sighed and slid into the seat across from her childhood friend and teenage fling. “Long time no see,” she said, aiming for self-assured and casual.

“A long time, indeed! Do you go here?” Castielle seemed so pleased. It reminded Deanna of a bird, feathers freshly pruned. There was something so different about this Castielle, freer than the girl she'd known in high school, more aware despite the open book in front of her. Something about the lack of the girl's dreamy expression of old awakened a different kind of sad in Deanna, something discordant and unaccepting of change.

“Yep, last semester. What about you? What're you here for?”

Castielle's back straightened further, an ecstatic, proud glow lighting up her eyes. Feathers all in place, she looked ready to sing. “I started my graduate studies here in January.”

Deanna blinked in surprise. “What?”

Castielle fingered the pages of her book, pages catching on her well-manicured nails. The movement caught Deanna's attention, drawing her eyes down to the delicate hands and for the first time noticing the diamond sitting on her left ring finger. The sight left Deanna feeling suddenly parched.

Oblivious to Deanna's plight, Castielle continued on, “Yes, I know it seems quick, but I finished my BA last summer, and I took the fall semester off at Mama's request, but I was just so bored. It seemed a waste to sit around doing nothing when I knew I wanted to be studying again.”

“Yeah, real shame, that. I can imagine. So uh... you finally find that prince you were looking for?” Deanna nodded vaguely at the rock on Castielle's hand.

It took Castielle a moment to catch up with the sudden change in topic, blinking owlishly a few times before following her companion's gaze down at her hand. Staring at her ring, all the manic happiness flowed out of Castielle, settling into something softer, a happy, contented smile finding a home on her lips.

When she looked back up at Deanna, she was the perfect picture of blushing bride-to-be. “Ah, yes.”

Deanna thought back on all the sleaze balls Castielle had dated back in high school, and that same protective urge she'd felt years before flared up. “He treat you good?”

“Oh yes, very well. He... He actually sees me, you know? For some reason, most people at my old university though I was simply there to get my MRS degree, but not him.”

Deanna wanted to say people probably thought that because of how pretty and demure Castielle was, always sighing over fairy tales and finding her prince charming. Instead, she said, “They know you're already a graduate student, right?”

Castielle laughed softly. “Chuck says the same thing.”

Deanna leaned back in her seat, working at cool and casual. “Did he now? Sounds like a smart guy, if you ask me.”

Castielle nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, he's very smart! I really think you would like him, Deanna.”

Deanna melted a little at the raw love and admiration in Castielle's eyes. “So tell me about him then. How'd you guys meet?”

“Oh, Deanna, he's so smart and kind. He's a writer. I met him at a book signing. I was covering it for the school's paper.”

“A writer, huh? He write anything I'd know? Does he write fairy tales?” Dean asked coyly, sending Castielle a teasing look across the table.

“You might know his books, though you wouldn't know he wrote them. He uses a pseudonym. And I know you're teasing me, but you could say he writes fairy tales of a kind, stories that teach important lessons about love and family and courage and sacrifice.”

Castielle's excitement was infectious, and Deanna found herself smiling in return. “You seem happy.”

“Oh, I really am, Deanna, deliriously so. Ah!” Color rushed high into the tops of Castielle's cheeks. “But how rude of me! What about you? How have you been? What do you study? Knowing you, it must be something wonderful and challenging.”

Deanna found herself blushing. “Ah, well, I'm getting a degree in engineering.” Castiel made a delighted noise, causing Deanna to flush further. “As for the rest, well... Could be better. Living in my car right now since my girlfriend decided the fun thing to do would be drunkenly cheat on me with some guy and get herself knocked up, and I can't very well throw a pregnant lady out on the streets.” When Deanna chanced a glance up, Castielle looked positively stricken.

Castielle reached for the hand Deanna had resting on the table, clutching it in both of hers. With a jolt, Deanna realized those hands were sinfully soft.

“You must stay with Chuck and I,” she insisted. When she saw that Deanna was about to protest, she amended, “At least until your exams are over and done with. It wouldn't be right of me to let you live out of your car during such an important time.”

Deanna would never be able to rightly say just how she wound up being convinced to live with Castielle Novak and her fiance, Chuck Shurley. All she could say was that come that evening, she was sitting in their shared living room, shaking hands with the man, as Castielle explained the situation to him.

Living with the couple was surprisingly easy, and Deanna found that Castielle had been right; she did actually find herself kind of liking Chuck. He wasn't exactly personalized Christmas card material, but he was nice enough, and it was clear from the way his eyes followed Castielle around the small house that he was completely besotted with the young woman. Deanna found great amusement in the fact that he seemed to forever be amazed that a woman like Castielle could have chosen to marry a man like him – nervous and gangly and at least ten years her senior. Somehow, though, they made the perfect couple, never more apparent than when Deanna would catch them late at night, curled up together as Chuck read the latest additions to his manuscripts to Castielle as she listened with closed eyes and rapt attention.

Surprisingly, all sour feelings that Deanna had had about Castielle being engaged disappeared. She found she was even happy for the woman. Being with Castielle and Chuck had a certain curative effect on Deanna, one that saw her through the end of her exams and graduation, which the couple happily attended.

The day Deanna was scheduled to move out of their house and back in with her mother and Sammy, the unexpected happened. Lisa showed up on the doorstep. Castielle begrudgingly let her in at Deanna's okay, but she shot Lisa the nastiest look. It took Deanna so by surprise, never having seen Castielle show any sort of disapproval to anyone before, that she almost burst into laughter. Almost.

The conversation was a short one. Was Lisa still pregnant?  _Yes_ . Was she still sorry?  _Yes_ . Did she want Deanna to come home so they could work it out?  _Yes_ .

Despite feeling Castielle's disapproval radiating from the other room where she was very conspicuously eavesdropping, Deanna found herself agreeing to moving back in, to working it out. She loved Lisa, after all, and who was to say they couldn't figure it out? Why throw away a good thing because of one drunken mistake?

 


	4. But They Fell In Love...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You did this?” she called out over the rain, obviously surprised.  
> “I needed a grand gestured,” Deanna replied.  
> Castielle frowned, lost and confused. “What?”  
> “You're a princess, Castielle.”

 Ten years down the line found Deanna and Castielle both moved back home, both doing the the single parent thing. Deanna and Lisa had managed to work out their problems, staying together for the first five years of Ben's life. For all intents and purposes, Deanna was his mom just as much as Lisa was, which was why when they did finally break up, their lives just going in two different directions, they both agreed shared custody was best. Having never quite figured out what it was she wanted to do post-college, Deanna had moved back home and joined her Uncle Bobby as a partner in his auto shop, getting prepped and groomed to take the whole thing over one day.

Castielle had moved back only three years ago. No one knew what had happened with her marriage, only that she had shown up alone and with a two year old daughter on her hip and a resume in her hand. She'd begun working at the elementary school, teaching kindergarten. It was a career move that, to Deanna at least, seemed like the most logical one. Castielle with her soft smiles, ever-reaching patience, and continued love of fairy tales was the ideal kindergarten teacher, all the children loving her without exception.

They still lived fairly separate lives, exchanging passing pleasantries and smiles on the street or in the grocery store.

However, that slowly changed once Sam got down on one knee for Jess Moore, another teacher at the elementary school and close friend of Castielle's.

The wedding itself was a small affair, only close friends and family attending the church ceremony. Deanna stood next to Sam, viciously proud of her baby brother and the man he'd become, while Castielle stood next to Jess, watching the the proceedings with a dreamy expression she reserved only for the best of fairy tales. Castielle's young daughter, Claire, even participated as flower girl, seeing as neither Jess nor Sam had any young girls in their families.

The reception was a whole different animal than the ceremony, what seemed to be the whole town crowding under tents and trees lit up with fairy lights.

Deanna hadn't even realized she'd been staring, taking in the barest beginnings of crows' feet at the corners of Castielle's eyes and the smile lines that were starting to form around her mouth and pondering with a start the fact that Castielle must now have stretch marks, until Sam plopped down next to her. “Dude, just ask her out.”

Deanna blinked at her stupid, hulking, too tall brother. “What?”

Sam rolled his eyes, and Deanna had to bite her tongue against scolding him for the gesture. “Look, you've been pining after her since high school. Just ask her on a date and be done with it already.”

Deanna considered saying she wasn't pining, that she wasn't interested in Castielle that way, but this was Sam. Her baby brother knew her better than anyone, and there was no use in telling him something they both knew to be a lie. Instead, her attention returned to Castielle, where she swayed back and forth with her daughter on the dance floor. Young Claire looked very little like her mother, their only common trait being twin sets of unfathomable blue eyes. However, Deanna was starting to realized that for as little as she looked like Castielle, she was every bit her mother's daughter – beautiful, always with a dreamy, far off look to her eyes and story books in her small hands.

Finally, Deanna said, “I can't just ask her out.”

Sam sighed in frustration. “Are you serious right now? You're freaking thirty-two years old, and you can't ask out the pretty lady from down the street.”

Deanna glared right into Sam's bitch face. “What I'm _saying_ , Samsquatch, is that it's Castielle. She deserves better than a casual invite to some crappy burger and fries.”

Sam stared at his sister in shock. “Wow... You really do like her.”

Deanna continued scowling at Sam, finally asking, “Don't you have a wife now? Shouldn't you be spending your life having chick flick moments with her now instead of me? Sheesh!”

Smiling at his sister, Sam stood. “All I'm saying is don't wait too long.”

“And all I'm saying is you better go find your wife before she runs off with the best man.”

Sam stared down at her critically. “You're the best man, Deanna.”

Returning his look with a wink, she said, “Exactly.”

Deanna left the party earlier than most, hugging her mom, her brother, and brand new sister-in-law on her way out. The next morning she woke up early, sitting at her computer with her coffee in hand as she researched different florists in the area and which ones offered discounts for large orders. Deciding on the flower shop run by Andrea Lafitte, she ordered a smattering of daisies, violets, sunflowers, and all other kinds of summer flora with a very distinct set of instructions.

She didn't have a solid plan beyond this. No idea just what she would say or do. It just didn't seem like something someone could plan, so she settled on flowers and spontaneous, all the while praying she didn't screw it up.

Saturday morning was dreary and wet, rain falling on and off and bringing an unseasonable chill in the air. Deanna was parked across the street from Castielle's house, waiting for the moment when she would walk out onto her front porch.

It was close to 7:30, the rain once more falling in a steady downpour, when Castielle finally did appear, stopping in her tracks at mountains of flowers set up all around her, at least a hundred of them, if not more. She looked around in confusion, searching for a note of some kind or a business card, anything to give her a clue as to where the flowers came from. She didn't spot Deanna until the woman was standing at the edge of her yard.

“You did this?” she called out over the rain, obviously surprised.

“I needed a grand gestured,” Deanna replied.

Castielle frowned, lost and confused. “What?”

“You're a princess, Castielle.”

Castielle's frown deepened. “I don't understand.” Then, pleading, “Deanna, it's raining. Come up here.”

Deanna shook her head, deliriously happy grin spreading from ear to ear. “You're a princess, Castielle, all the girls in our kindergarten class said so.”

“Deanna, come up here,” she insisted again, still obviously confused and obviously concerned.

Deanna shook her grin, feeling playful despite of, perhaps even because of, the rain soaking through her clothes. “You come out here.”

Scandalized, Castielle repeated, “It's raining!”

“So? Makes for a better story, right?”

Resolve weakening, Castielle made one last attempt to argue. “Deanna...”

“Don't fight it! Just come down here!”

Castielle cast one last, longing glance around her dry porch before running out into the rain. Deanna met her halfway, enveloping Castielle in her arms and sweeping down to catch her lips in a kiss. Castielle's fingers tangled in Deanna's shirt as she opened up to the kiss, leaning up into it, deepening it of her own accord. When they pulled away, Deanna was smiling happily at her, curling the dark hair that fell down the center of Castielle's back around her finger.

“Marry me?” The question had come out of nowhere, surprising even Deanna, but she couldn't bear to take it back.

A laugh was startled out of Castielle. “Excuse me?”

“I'm not saying it has to be today or tomorrow. We can be engaged for as long as you want. I just know that this is something I want, and I think it might be something you want too.”

“We barely know each other anymore.”

“Then we'll get to know each other,” Deanna insisted fiercely. “Cas, all I know is that every time you've shown up in my life, you've made it better. You make me happy, for better or for worse, and I'm tired of pretending I don't want that.”

Castielle adopted that far off look in her eyes, pushing a wet strand of hair away from Deanna's face, _humm_ -ing thoughtfully to herself. Finally, curiously, almost playfully, she asked, “I'm a princess?”

Deanna nodded. “And I think I maybe always wanted to be your prince.”

Castielle smiled blithely. “Since when do you believe in fairy tales?”

“Since you.”

Castielle studied her a moment more before guiding Deanna down for another kiss, this one softer than the first, a chaste press of their lips together through the rain.

When the kiss ended, Castielle was still smiling. “For the record, you always made me happy, too.”

Hope swelled in her chest as Deanna asked, “Is that a yes?”

Castielle laughed softly. “I must be crazy, but yes. I will marry you.”


	5. And They Lived Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna had, of course, seen the pictures from Castielle's first wedding, and while it had been pretty and traditional, she was sure theirs was better. Of course, she may have been a bit biased.

Deanna and Castielle stayed engaged for a year before getting married, acclimatizing their families to the idea. Claire and Ben took to one another right away, falling into sync as though they'd always been meant to be siblings. Claire, for her part, loved Deanna right away, not least of all because she'd filled their house with flowers and made her mommy happy. Ben took a little longer to warm up to Castielle, suspicious of her from the get-go, mostly out of a concern that Castielle would somehow wreck everything between the two moms he already had. After all, he'd had friends with parents who remarried and had seen the troubles such things could cause. However, one day, about four months in, they had a breakthrough. Deanna'd been stuck at work, while Lisa was laid up at home, sick in bed, and with no one else to pick Ben up from baseball practice, Castielle had swooped in to save the day. Granted, Deanna knew her son and knew that such an act alone would never be enough to change his mind as it had been, but neither Castielle nor Ben would tell her or Lisa or anyone else just what had transpired that day. It was fairly telling, though, that when either party was asked about it, maniacal grins would spread across their faces even as they'd swear it was nothing at all. Deanna was fairly sure Claire knew, too, considering she had the same reaction. Either that, or she just liked mimicing her mother and brother-to-be. With five year olds, who really knew?

They hadn't even started planning anything until after that fourth month, Castielle refusing to move forward on any of it until both children were 100% on board with the idea. Once that term had been reached, Deanna had initially planned to let Castielle plan the whole thing, only offering opinions when asked. That had lasted about two whole days, if that, before Castielle had given her the tongue lashing of a life time, and so not in the good way. She'd wanted both of their ideas; she wanted this wedding to be everything about the two of them that made them so great together. It had been surprisingly easy to get on board with, and even a little fun once she'd realized Castielle would be receptive to all of her ideas.

By the time the day came, Deanna had, of course, seen the pictures from Castielle's first wedding, and while it had been pretty and traditional, she was sure theirs was better. Of course, she may have been a bit biased.

The whole thing was very whimsical, held outside under a bower of twisting branches. Castielle had scoffed at any actual flower arrangements. Instead, they'd just asked Andrea to take whatever she had available and make it look picturesque. They'd wound up with day lilies and roses and a million other flowers scattered about. The only thing that was specifically requested, by Deanna, no less, was that Castielle carried a bouquet of sunflowers.

Deanna had shocked everyone when she'd elected to wear a dress. She made sure to remind everyone that she " _could be a fucking girl, too, god damn it!_ " It had been a simple thing, plain white cotton with billowing short sleeves, a scoop neck, and no embellishments. Jess had helped her style her hair into a simple fishtail braid over one shoulder, similar enough to the pigtails she'd worn when she and Castielle had met to be commemorative of how their lives had weaved together. 

Another surprise came in the form of Castielle opting to be the one that waited by the officiant. Deanna had tried to argue it, citing reasons such as " _what if she'd wanted to see Castielle walk down the aisle_ " and that Castielle " _would be prettier for everyone to look at_ ." That final argument seemed to be the nail in the coffin of Deanna's case. " _ Besides, _ " Castielle had said,  _ "I already got to walk to down the aisle once, and it's not like I have anyone clamoring to give me away _ ." She'd said the second bit with such a sweet and knowing smile that Deanna maybe, just a little bit, fell in love with her all over again for taking Sam's feelings into consideration as well. Deanna barely got the words out of her mouth to ask him before he was lifting her up in a hug that cracked her back and saying " _ Yes! Yes! Of course! _ " a million times over.

Somehow, probably because she was the one that got wrangled into being walked down the aisle, Deanna wound up with the sunflowers. It felt oddly rustic, out of sync with the fairy lights strung through the trees and the amassment of elegant flowers. Sam had wound up teasing her that she should be wearing cowboy boots with mason jar lights strung up instead. Deanna had said that while she wasn't sure about the mason jars, she did definitely agree that she needed the cowboy boots, since maybe then it would hurt a little more when she stepped on his foot.

As Sam walked her down the aisle and Deanna finally caught sight of her soon-to-be wife, she couldn't help thinking that she'd been right when she said Castielle would be prettier to look at. Her dressed reminded Deanna of wood nymphs or fairies, strips of fabric trailing down the skirt with the top simple and spaghetti-strapped. Her hair fell in soft curls down her back, only the front pulled back so that stray tendrils framed her face, while violets and daisies were tied into her hair. She was perfect, and Deanna couldn't be happier to be marrying her.

Castielle knew she had insisted on several things that had made no sense to Deanna, among them that Deanna be the one everyone got to stare at. What she'd told her hadn't been a lie. Castielle had already gotten to walk down the aisle once, and she knew Sam would be incredibly upset at a missed opportunity to walk his big sister down the aisle. There had, of course, been other reasons, reasons that were perhaps a little more selfish, reasons like the first time having been so hard without her father to give her away, his suicide being something she wasn't sure she would ever get over. Really, though, more than anything else, she'd wanted the chance to show off Deanna for a change. Despite what Deanna might think of herself, Castielle found her beautiful, always had in fact. She'd always admired the way Deanna dared to be different and the silent challenge she'd posed to anyone who may think to question it. Castielle had loved Chuck, been proud of his accomplishments and happy to be his wife, but with Deanna? With Deanna everyday felt like winning the lottery, and though she didn't often say it, knowing Deanna would try to awkwardly shrug it off, Castielle felt so very honored to be marrying her.

She felt Claire's hand slip up into hers, and when she looked down at her little girl, Claire grinned up at her, whispering, "She looks pretty, Mommy."

She squeezed Claire's hand softly, whispering back, "She really does."

Sam and Deanna reached the end of the aisle, and he kissed his sister on the cheek, and then Castielle, playfully whispering into her ear, "She's your problem now."

Castielle laughed, pushing ineffectually against his shoulder, and then he took his place beside Deanna.

The officiant began the proceedings. They'd played with the ideas of writing their own vows, but in the end decided they didn't need to. They knew what they meant to one another; they didn't need to lay it out bare for everyone else to see.  
The ceremony was short, and when it was announced, "You may now kiss the bride!" neither of them could stop smiling long enough to make it a real kiss. In the midst of it, the officiant called out, "And may they live happily ever after!"

Deanna pulled back to grin stupidly at her wife, asking with a laugh, "Seriously?"

Castielle grinned back, unable to remember a time she'd been so deliriously happy, short of the birth of her daughter. "I couldn't resist."

And then, they kissed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://kanoitrace.tumblr.com)!


End file.
